


Licensed Killer

by AngelOfStory



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blow Jobs, Bottom Dean, Cas captures dean, Castiel is in some shit, Costume Parties & Masquerades, F/F, F/M, Hand Jobs, Its a Thing, M/M, Prisoner!Dean, Top Castiel, dean works for the government, forcibly naked, fuck zachariah, oh boy, sniper!Dean, sniper!cas, strip clubs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 18:41:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7768864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelOfStory/pseuds/AngelOfStory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is given a mission to eliminate CEO Castiel Novak. Everything would have worked out fine, except it didn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Assignment

**Author's Note:**

> Dean's a sniper basically, Dean is 25, Sam is 17, (Different age difference than show). Also, it's on earth but a different earth because I didn't want to use actual names of placed in case I might offend anyone. Just go along with it.

Shit.

He was late.

Again.

Dean rushed through the crowded streets of Chalaine, trying to fix his tie. Zachariah would kill him if he was late to this meeting. He was the main asset for this case and there was no way he would remain there if he was late.

He pushed past walkers and sped in front of cars, racing to the towering building in front of him. Once he reached the doors, he pushed them open and stopped in the entryway. He took a moment to fix his rumpled coat and smooth out his hair.

Once he thought he was presentable enough, he stepped forward to the elevators and rode up to the penthouse. The moment of silence in the elevator allowed Dean to catch his breath and sort through his thoughts.

He wondered who the target would be, someone of high importance most likely. He ran through the reasons he would be brought in on such a high-level case like this one. Politics, personal vendetta, the list could go on.

A little ‘ding’ drove Dean from his thoughts and he stepped off the elevator. He watched the doors close behind him before walking carefully towards the boardroom. No one else was about on this level, indicating everyone was already there or he was early.

It was most likely not the latter. Dean had a reputation of being only slightly late to briefing meetings like this one. He also had a reputation of sleeping with anyone and everyone, although that one wasn’t as true. 

His eyes scanned the room numbers as he passed them, looking for lucky number 27. Once he found himself in front of the room, he placed his thumb gently against the keypad. “Welcome, D. Winchester.” The woman’s robot voice was thundering compared to the quiet hallway.

Dean smirked to himself, nodded a greeting to the computer as his hand came up to flatten his tie again. His hand rose to knock on the wooden door, but before he got the chance, it swung open.

There, greeting him, was the balding white-haired man. He was short compared to Dean, and had really creepy beady eyes. Dean stood straighter, looking forward and waiting for Zachariah to say something to him.

“Ah! So you decided to show up! Well, all’s well that ends well I suppose!” The man’s nasally voice said. Dean nodded his acknowledgement and followed the shrimp of a man into the room.

Dean took the chair to the right of the head of the table, where Zachariah would be sitting. While he hated sitting this close and smelling the whiskey on the man, it showed respect and power to the clients.

He settled into the office chair and waited for the meeting to start. Once Zachariah was done shifting around in his own squeaky chair, he looked up. Clapping his hands together, the lights dimmed and the screen to the left of Dean shone brightly on the wall. 

Behind Zachariah, a man appeared from the lights. The picture was semi-blurry and out of focus but Dean could tell who the intended target was. It was a man, roughly Dean’s height and age, who was wearing a long brown trench coat.

His dark brown hair stuck up in all directions and he looked like a deer in headlights. He obviously had no idea he was being photographed. Dean took a moment to study the man’s figures before he waited for Zachariah to continue.

After a moment of complete silence, Zachariah spoke, “The target’s name is Castiel Novak, male, age 32. He is the CEO of a company that runs an underground army operations group. Until recently, he was working with us. But lately, Mr. Novak has decided to take a different route and start training his troops to fight against us, instead of with us.

“He is the best in the business, trained sniper and an unbelievable fighter. He was chosen to train new troops so that they would be at their very best when the war with Zahway was at its worst. He has personally trained thousands of men and was one of our best employees. However, since he has decided to take his troops and declare war against us, we must take him out.

“If he is put down, we will once again have control over the troops. Agent Winchester will be the one to do the task. Novak will be arriving in Rhike in two days, from a flight T-3903. Once Novak is in his hotel suite, Agent Winchester will take him out. He is expected to stay in the Sante Lee Hotel, and has made reservations for room 549.

“It is crucial that Novak is taken out before the troops can get too rallied to fight against us. If that happens, I fear we may have our own war at hand, instead of that with Zahway.” After finishing his small speech, Zachariah turned to Dean and talked to him directly.

“The sniper you will be using is in the bag behind me, it has been specially made for this mission. It is a .390 with a silencer and scope attached to it. While it should only take you one shot to complete the mission, you have enough ammo to take out a small group of men.

“You were chosen because you have never worked with Novak, nor has he ever seen you. You are our best sniper so we trust that you will not let us down. A plane will be waiting for you at the airport to take you to Rhike in approximately 2 hours. Pack only what you need, nothing more. Good luck.”

Zachariah seemed finished with Dean, so Dean nodded and took his leave. Once in the hallway he let out the breath he had been holding. This Novak guy that he is supposed to be taking down is an expert on weapons and fighting. Dean would have to be extremely careful in order to not let Novak know he was being followed or marked as a target.

The bag he was now holding was heavy, but not too much that he felt it would weigh Dean down. Hopefully the sniper they gave him would be good enough for this, because if not, and he missed because of some miscalculations, he may never get a chance to take Novak out again.

He made his way to the elevator with the bag, running ideas through his head. Once he was in Rhike, he would have to stake out the best possible angle for doing the job. Hopefully there were buildings higher than the hotel so that he would have a rooftop as a vantage point.

If not, he would have to do it manually, setting up in a car and shooting at an upwards angle. That always sucked, he much preferred downwards. He walked through the lobby, turning over every possible outcome in his head.

He didn’t know how long he would be in Rhike, but it would most likely be more than two days. He should go home and pack a duffle. He would have to call Sam to let him know too, hopefully Sam could find somewhere to stay in such short noticed.

Dean hailed a cab and carefully set the bag down next to him. He gave his address to the cabbie and leaned back against the seat. It was going to be a long plane trip the Rhike, maybe he should pick up some sleeping meds for the ride? Dean hated planes. A lot.

The ride to his house seemed to take forever, but finally he arrived. He thanked the cabbie, tipped him a generous amount and grabbed his bag. He looked up at the apartment building in front of him and heaved a sigh.

After closing his eyes for a moment, forcing himself to relax, Dean took a step towards the door. He always hated when he had to go away on business. He never liked to leave Sammy all alone, knew he would never get over that fear. Sam was old enough to take care of himself, he knew that, but when he was away on business he couldn’t check up on him.

He hated that he wouldn’t be able to see or speak to Sam for a few days, knowing a lot could go wrong. He was very protective of his little brother, ever since Dean was the one being targeted by a covert business corporation. 

He was surprised they had the balls to come after him, but them also targeting Sam made Dean go into a blind rage. He ended up putting all three men in the hospital, and got the entire corporation shut down for good. He knew his job was dangerous, knew how dangerous it could be for him, but hated when it would come back to Sam.

A little danger for Dean was never anything that would make him wet his pants, but anything towards Sam made him blow smoke out of his ears. A lot of people learned after the corporation had targeted him to not go for the brother. Sure, he had been targeted before but never again was Sam being targeted also. Dean could live with that, could live with his life being in danger as long as he knew Sam was safe. 

His little trip down memory lane made the stairs up to his apartment seem shorter, because suddenly he was in front of the awfully painted, white door. He took his keys out and unlocked it, wrestling with getting the damn thing open.

Once it finally gave way and swung open, Dean was through the threshold. “Sam?” Dean called out, looking around the apartment as he closed the door behind him and set the bag down. There was no answer, so Dean tried again. 

“Sam? I’m home!” He yelled, praying for an answer. When after a few moments of silence, Dean went to search for him. The kitchen and living room were both empty, no sign of Sam or a note. He pushed the door open to Sam’s room and saw a giant on the floor with a headset on.

He breathed a sigh of relief and went to stand over him. He nudged Sam with his foot and put both hands on his hips, trying to look menacing. When Sam finally took off his headset and looked up to see his brother, his face broke out into a toothy grin. 

“Dammit, Sam, answer me when I call you.” Dean knew he sounded irritated, but he couldn’t help the constant fear that Sam would be targeted again. Sam only smiled more and held up his controller, “Sorry, playing a game.”

Dean sighed and took a seat next to Sam on the floor. “Yeah, yeah, you and your damn toy. Want food? I’m gonna make dinner in a second.” Sam nodded, once again engrossed in the screen in front of him. Dean waited for more of a response, but when it was obvious he wasn’t going to get one, he rose to his feet.

He watched Sam click away on his controller, sticking his tongue out as he concentrated. He hated leaving him behind, but knew it was far too dangerous to take him with. Plus, Zachariah would never allow a civilian to go on a trip like this.

“I’m leaving for a business trip in a few hours, by the way.” Dean said, trying to play it off. Sam looked up again, only for a second before he refocused on his game. “How long?” Was his simple response. 

“I dunno, few days?” Dean waited for a reaction from Sam, something to imply that he cared but he didn’t get anything. “I’ll stay at Ash’s.” He knew Sam hated it when Dean went anywhere on business. He just wanted more of an answer though.

Dean heaved another sigh and left Sam alone to his game. He pulled out a pizza from the freezer and popped it in the oven, setting the timer. Once the pizza was cooking, he went into his own room to begin to pack. 

Something felt off, Dean was uneasy the entire time he was packing. He didn’t know exactly what it was but only had the feeling of something going wrong. Once Dean was all packed, and the pizza was done, he took a slice into Sam’s room.

“Alright, well, I’m leaving now, I’ll see you in a few days.” Dean sounded like a scared puppy, he hated that he sounded weak but couldn’t help it. Something was wrong. “Make sure you lock the door when you leave, and text me when you wake up and go to bed.” “Yeah, yeah.” Sam said, waving a hand to dismiss Dean.

The sight of Sam nearly ignoring him broke Dean’s heart. He flashed back to when Sam was younger and would cling onto Dean whenever he left. He missed that Sam, missed that Sam would miss him. 

“Love you.” He whispered, not sure if Sam actually heard it. He closed Sam’s door and made his way out the front with duffle and bag in hand. He looked back at the stupid white door and had a sense of foreboding. 

Whatever this feeling was, Dean would have to get past it, he had a mission to do. He made his way out the front and into the limousine waiting for him. He watched the apartment fade away into the distance with sad eyes.

It would only be for a few days, Dean kept telling himself, but he’s not sure even he believed that. Whatever was going to happen in Rhike, Dean was sure he was prepared for it. There was nothing left to do now except enjoy the ride.


	2. Sex with a Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean checks in to his hotel and ventures out again to a local bar where he finds some company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smut.

The plane ride was nothing to write home about, mostly Dean just slept. He had had enough of the plane rocking up and down and decided it was time to be out like a light. He knew the flight was somewhat long, upwards of 5 hours depending on the weather.

He was only just waking up when the plane’s wheels touched down. Dean took a moment to stretch in his seat and look at his surroundings. Outside, it was covered in snow, with gray skies and leafless trees. 

The interior of the plane made Dean feel like a stuck-up government junkie. Someone who should be wearing tight suits and reading glasses at all times. Luckily he only had the suits, and felt a little more comfortable that he wasn’t a government minion. Sure, he worked for them sometimes, but mostly he was just contracted.

And damn, he was the best, so of course the government hired the best, right? The plane he was on was a small private jet, something the President would be seen getting out of. Everything was gold-plated and expensive looking, even the shot glasses sitting on the table. The chairs were far too squishy and he was offered some type of alcohol every 5 minutes.

He usually enjoyed his alcohol, but right now he had to focus on his mission. Maybe after he was settled in he would walk around the city and see what they had to offer for entertainment. He rose from his seat, waving off another attendant coming to ask him if he needed a drink.

Right now, he just needed his feet to feel solid ground. And, boy, was it a comfortable feeling when Dean descended the stair case and felt the cold, frozen ground beneath him. Yeah, it was cold as hell, but it was a lot better than that death trap of a flying thing. Nobody was safe in planes, nobody.

He let a butler type of dude take his duffle bag and lead him to a car. Bumping his head while getting into the car, he grumbled and shifted in his less comfortable seat. The ride to the hotel only took a few minutes but Dean was cramped in the back the entire time. Finally, the car stopped for good, and Dean let himself onto the street so that he was standing in front of Sante Lee Hotel. With duffel and sniper bag in hand, he pushed open the door.

An actual butler this time took his duffel and loaded it onto one of those trolley things. Dean always wanted to ride those when he was little, but never got the chance due to only ever staying in motels. He thanked the man and checked in at the front desk.

Room 542.

He was almost neighbors with Novak. He would have to be careful, in order to avoid rousing his suspicions. He took the key card from the busty brunette in front of him and threw a smile her way. He carried his bag and pulled the trolley to the elevator, hitting the number 5 button once he was inside.

The elevator music was absolutely horrendous. It was a weird mix between country and pop, but had a splash of Crathian thrown in. It was almost like the writer’s thought ‘hmm what is the most annoying thing we can come up with.’ 

Before long though, Dean was let out into an empty hallway. He left the trolley in the elevator, not quite sure what to do with it, and shouldered his duffle. Counting the numbers on the doors, he finally stood in front of his own. He slipped in the key card to the slot and waited for a green light to flash at him.

The green light appeared soon enough, and he let himself into his room. It was honestly nothing special, white comforters, white walls, white everything. He wished they at least had stuck with the 80s theme the lobby seemed to have. Dean set his bag on the queen-sized bed in the middle of the room and continued his search. There was nothing in the fridge or the cabinets. 

This was boring as hell; no way Dean would stay cooped up in here for two days. Dean slipped his room key into his wallet and headed out his door again. Checking to make sure it was locked, Dean made his way to the stairs. No way in hell was he going to listen to that awful music again.

He pushed through a side door and was welcomed by the loud noises and bright lights of the city. He took a moment to look around, looking for some place close he could hopefully get a few beers. Hell, maybe if he was lucky he could even bring home some entertainment for the night.

The city was fairly busy tonight, groups of people were walking around and laughing obnoxiously. Some professional looking types were hurrying along, talking on phones or looking at watches. It was quite loud outside, car horns were going off, voices rang out. Just the thought of all the people made Dean’s skin tingle with excitement.

He found a place nearby the hotel, called the ‘Black Lagoon’ and hoped it would live up to its really fucking weird name. Mermaid names like that usually mean stripper joints, which also meant booze and babes. The front doors were lined with flashing lights, probably to draw the attention of people. The actual doors were draped with a fake purple satin.

Bouncers stood watch at the front doors, eyeing everyone who came up to them. They checked some ID’s and would only nod or shake their head. A few underage kids were turned away, but most people were allowed access.

Dean walked up to a bouncer and flashed his ID, not waiting for a nod to walk in. Once through the door, he was immediately hit with the smell of weed, alcohol, and cheap cologne. Perfect, just what the doctor ordered. He waltzed to the bar, raising a finger to get the bartender’s attention.

The attractive man, slightly too short for Dean’s taste, flashed a smile and leaned onto the bar. He batted his eyelashes at Dean and asked what he wanted with a long northern drawl. It was weird for Dean to hear northern accents; he was so used to his own southern.

After the moment of surprise passed, Dean ordered whiskey and turned around to watch the crowd. A lot of interesting people were out tonight, it seems, because there were a lot of couples grinding on the dance floor.

It must’ve been some masquerade night because a lot of the guests were wearing masks. He turned back to the bartender and winked at the blonde man, “Any chance you have an extra mask laying around?” He did his best to let his southern accent shine through.

The man pursed his lips in fake thought, tapping his chin before his eyes brightened. He pulled out a mask from under the counter and handed it to Dean. Perfect. It was a feather-filled disaster of a mask.

Blue and purple feathers looked to be haphazardly glued onto the framework. There looked to be about a pound of glitter caked around the edges of the eyes and nose. It covered almost his entire face, save for his eyes and mouth. His nose was slightly open, not quite showing, but allowing enough air to come through.

At least nobody would recognize him, he thought. He nodded his thanks to the bartender and slid it over his face. He downed his entire drink, leaving the cup on the bar, before going to mingle with the crowd.

As he walked through, he grabbed some of the girls’ hips and was groped a little himself. Nobody was quite interesting enough for him to stop however, so he continued on his way. After roaming the groups for a little while, Dean got bored with himself and took a seat near a lounging area. 

He was sitting in a loveseat, but a few chairs over, a couple was making out all over a couch. He ignored them with a roll of his eyes, favoring scanning the crowds for a possible hookup. It was hard to tell who was attractive though, with the masks.

He was content listening to the booming music and watching the bodies mingle when suddenly a figure blocked his vision. He looked up and saw bright green feathers. The mask the man was wearing was beautifully made, looking far too professional for a joint like this. It showed the man’s high cheek bones and full pink lips. Glitter was expertly glued in an intricate pattern across the mask, outlining the eyes and cheekbones.

It wasn’t until Dean looked up into the blue eyes that he was interested enough to pursue. Apparently his mind was set on blue eyes lately, because he rose and followed the man who was beckoning him with a finger.

God, he didn’t even know who it was, but isn’t that the fun part? They made their way to an empty hallway when Dean saw his chance. He grabbed a handful of the man’s hair and pushed him against the wall. Immediately, Dean was on him, the other hand coming to stroke at his side.

Dean watched the pink lips break out into a smile, and that was all it took for Dean to rush forward and kiss the man in front of him. His lips broke apart, his own tongue sliding against the man’s lips, begging for entry.

Once the man’s lips gave way, Dean breathed a sigh of relief and began exploring. He was completely engrossed in the feel of the mouth on his, he barely noticed a hand come to grip his hip. That was, until positions flip and suddenly he’s the one pressed against the wall being kissed for dear life.

Hands flew everywhere, searching each other’s body, trying to find skin. Dean dragged his tongue along the roof of the man’s mouth as his thumbs hooked into the pants and pulled him impossibly closer. The man’s soft little sighs of pleasure egged Dean on to deepen the kiss further, grabbing a handful of the man’s shirt.

A hand came to grip Dean’s hair, yanking slightly until he tipped his chin upwards. The little burst of pain made Dean gasp in surprise, his head falling farther back. Once his head was far enough up, their lips broke contact and the man latched onto his neck. He nipped and nibbled at Dean’s adams apple, soothing over the area with his tongue.

Dean focused solely on the mouth that was caressing his neck. The mouth kept dipping down lower, and his shirt was pulled down to allow access to his collar bone. Once enough was showing, the man began to nip softly at the bone.

Dean let out an embarrassing whine, his knees going weak. He pulled the man off of him and pulled him towards one of the empty rooms the bar kept stock. The handle was slippery in Dean’s hand, as he struggled with it to try and get it open. Knowing what kind of place this was, he knew there would probably be a bed, a bathroom, and maybe even a couch. These rooms, while most of the times used for private performances, were also open to customers.

When the door finally swung open, both men crashed into the room and saw two dudes smoking a bong in the corner. Dean opened his mouth, about to tell them to leave when a voice from behind him spoke.

“Out. Now.” It commanded, voice strong and sure. The two guys grabbed their shit and bolted from the room, not wanting to stay another minute. The man’s breath down Dean’s back gave him chills, and he leaned against the man, his head falling back onto the other’s shoulder.

Once again, the man nipped at the side of Dean’s neck with his lips, one hand coming to hold the other side of his head. Dean allowed it for a moment, before he turned and lifted the man up and against the door.

He held the man steadily by his knees, pressing him against the door as he leaned in for a kiss. The man, obviously surprised by the sudden change, wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and squeezed. Both men were breathing heavy from arousal and desperation.

Dean let his hands wander up to the man’s ass once he knew the man could hold himself up. He let his fingers trail across the man’s pants, dipping into his underwear to caress his tailbone. It was an awkward position, but Dean knew if he switched now he would give up control to the man.

And no way was he bottoming for this dude. 

A hand came in between them, and palmed at Dean’s erection. Dean leaned forward even more, breaking the kiss and moaning against the man’s neck. He rubbed himself against the firm hand, breathing hotly into the wet skin. 

The sound of his own zipper was enough to spur Dean into action once more. One of his hands left the guy’s ass, and came to unzip the guy’s pants. It was a bit of awkward fumbling before both of them had each other’s dicks in their hand. A moment was taken to appreciate each other’s weight in their own hand. It seemed like they fit effortlessly, and they looked back up to each other.

The stroking started almost immediately, and it was almost like a race to see who could get the other to come first. Dean used all of his tricks, pressing against the slit, rubbing the vein, twisting his hand. And to be honest, he would have gotten off just at the sight of the man in front of him.

All Dean could see where black eyes, pupils expanded with lust, pink cheeks and bright red lips just barely open. He looked completely blissed out, and it was enough to make Dean rock into the hand that was holding him. He groaned as a warning of his own release coming soon and fell forward against the man, forehead to forehead. The man’s breathy sighs were loud and hot against Dean’s ear, making Dean to jerk forward a little.

Usually he wasn’t one for so much intimacy with just a hookup, but it felt right with this guy. Dean stared into the black eyes, barely a sliver of blue showing, as he rocked himself into the hand. He panted against the man’s cheek, teeth catching every once in a while against the man’s sharp cheekbone.

With a twist of the man’s hand, Dean was coming all over that same hand, moaning into the guy’s cheek. It seemed to go on forever, rocking slightly in the hand as warm come, both his and the man’s soaked through their clothes. Everything seemed to slow, and Dean felt stuck in the moment of ecstasy. 

Once Dean had regained conscious thought, he carefully let the man down onto his feet, his own legs quite wobbly. He backed away a little from the man, giving them both some room to catch their breath. As soon as Dean thought he was steady enough to walk, he wandered into the bathroom and wet a washcloth. 

He brought it out, ready for awkward conversations, only to find the room empty. 

The man had left Dean alone, bolting as soon as he had the chance. And damn, if that wasn’t a shot to the ego. He huffed a breath, bringing the washcloth to his own clothes and cleaning the drying come from them.

He threw the washcloth back into the bathroom, and made his exit from the club. Honestly, he was exhausted, and was ready to hit the hay in his hotel room. He knew he wanted a one-night stand, but didn’t think he would be ditched as soon as he turned his back. Dean felt as though he as a pretty good lay, and deserved more than that.

He crossed the street, only barely remembering to take off the mask before entering the lobby. He smiled at the receptionist, not returning her flirting smiles, and made his way upstairs. He looked down the hall, and saw barely the wisp of a trench coat disappear into room 549. Damn, Novak must have just entered the lobby right before he had.

Unlocking his room, he let out a heavy sigh and tore off his clothes. He fell into bed, letting the world fade into darkness. That night, he dreamt of blue eyes and hot breaths against his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was my first time (ever) writing smut so give me feed back ples.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey guys I'm planning on wiping out a few chapters and rewriting it. I'm not really happy with the way it is so I'll try to rewrite/update after about a week or two. If you want to reread to see how the old one is I would do it now. It's gonna be gone in about a week. 

Much love!


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